Kobeni's desire was simple — an easy life. Unfortunately, life had other plans. At 18, fresh out of high school, her parents tried to hook her up with a job at a local coffee shop. But fate had a cruel sense of humor; her perpetually sweaty palms led to an unfortunate accident involving a scalding cup of coffee and her ex-boss.
For the next two years, she became a job nomad, hopping from one gig to another. But as she hit 20, her parents drew a line in the sand. "Become a devil hunter, or become a sex worker," they said. It wasn't much of a choice, but she picked what she thought was the safer path.
Three long months later, her application was finally processed. The moment her creaky apartment door swung open, she was faced with a sharply dressed man sporting a peculiar ponytail and brandishing a sword. He was there to guide her, to lead her into this new life.
Twisting the ring on her finger anxiously, she walked through the day in dread. People surely noticed, she thought. Imagining their sneers and judgments as they caught sight of the devil hunter badge on someone who couldn't even confidently place a food order made her self-conscious. Desperately, she tried to hide her anxiety, burying her face in her hands to hold back tears. The lady at the front desk handed her the food, seemingly unphased by the obviously overwhelmed devil hunter.
Stepping outside Mcronalds, the rising sun didn't quite match her wish for a few more hours of sleep. Her teacher's words echoed in her mind: "Be awake bright and early to have energy for anything."
Behind Mcronalds, a scratching sound made her hair stand on end, and sweat formed on her palms. The memory of her eye-patch-wearing teacher's teachings resurfaced. "It's our job as devil hunters to protect people, Kobeni. So when you're afraid, you have to push it down to help others."
Summoning her courage, she inched towards the alley. In the distance, a faint noise hinted at someone just out for a jog. Tears streamed down her face like rain. Her knife was missing, leaving her defenseless. Sobbing softly, she clung to the bag of food in one hand, while the other formed a shaky peace sign. It was a nervous reflex, a comforting habit her mentor had taught her.
Her eyes narrowed as the figure of an odd man came into view. Kobeni's nerves calmed a bit as she watched him scrounge around the dumpsters and various trash bags. "He's hungry," she reckoned, her eyes darting to him. He looked homeless, dressed in torn coats and a t-shirt, crusty with God knows what. "S-sir?" she tried to get his attention. The man froze, his eyes focusing on Kobeni. She closed her eyes in a quiet prayer.
He rushed towards her, and she held the bag of food close to herself. "I-I-t's mine!" she stammered, backing away slowly. "Y-y-you can't have it." When he reached a hand out, she swatted it away, attempting to retreat, but instead, she fell to the floor, landing on her back with a final cry.
She tossed the food away towards a corner of the alley and felt around for something to defend herself with. She heard a thudding noise behind her, something fleshy hitting the concrete. She wrapped her hand around a piece of glass sharp enough to cut into her hand, gripping it tightly, and swung it upwards towards the man. One of his fingers, just above one of the joints, was cut and fell to the ground. Blood splattered from the wound like a tomato exploding against a wall. Kobeni closed her eyes, feeling the warm, copper-smelling liquid splatter against her face. She tried to shake her head to keep it from going into her mouth. Her vision was red, and she tried to blink the substance away until she saw something in the corner of her eye.
Kobeni recoiled when she heard it—the sound of an engine starting, the sound of metal grinding against metal. There was a beating sound, and dust kicked up while one of the saws scratched against concrete. Shards of rock and powdered cement began to fog up the area.
"Oi oi oi, that burger," glowing eyes opened in what Kobeni guessed was a massive helmet. She cried, "My first solo patrol, and I find a devil." She began sobbing. "Oi, girl, that burger. I will help you if you give me that burger." "A devil contract?" she thought. "A contract, I'll make the contract if you protect me!" "Contract? Protect? Whatever will help you if I get that burger." "Fine—I'll give you the burger." Kobeni thought about how outrageous it all was—the burger-desiring devil making a contract for a cheap hamburger. "I'll give you the fries too if you keep me safe!" "Deal!" the devil jumped towards the homeless man. One of the saws sliced one of his arms off, only for a massive, muscly, bloated green-colored, veiny arm to shoot out from the stub—the homeless devil. The new hand balled into a fist and swung towards the chainsaw devil, throwing him back into a concrete wall, denting it.
The limp body fell to the concrete, and blood was coughed up through the jagged metal teeth of the chainsaw head. "Fuck you!" he yelled, jumping into the air and landing on the homeless devil. The chainsaws embedded themselves into the shoulders of the man, and chains were fired from the chainsaw devil's wrists. "Take that!" he yelled, his head butting into the homeless man's head, and the dirty head was ripped from his shoulders. "You taste disgusting!" he yelled.
Kobeni was on her side in a fetal position, holding her bag of food to her chest with her arms crossed, trying not to hear the carnage that was happening. After a while of crying, her eyes went dry. Her throat was dry and scratchy. She heard footsteps, and the chainsaws went silent. She turned back to the fight, only to see a blond, shorthaired, practically emaciated boy standing over her.
"I-I-s it done?" she asked. "Yeah," was all he said. "Okay," she replied, trying to get to her feet. "Hey." "Y-y-yeah?" "I want my burger."